The circumstances that surrounded my father's death were too much to bare. I knew my heart couldn't withstand the pain of anymore wounds so I decided to get lost in my own world. I isolated myself from reality by entering a masters program to become a teacher. I also found myself in a bad relationship that provided me with a distorted sense of stability. Gambling, overeating, and avoidance allowed me to get through. It wasn't much of a life but a least I didn't have to feel. I yearned for more but was scared to reach. The money and thrill gambling provided never satisfied the deepest longings of my soul.
During a 3 week period in 2004 I lost my dear uncle Robert and my grandmother who we called "Nana". Being a pallbearer at 2 funerals 3 weeks apart only put me into a further depression. It allowed me to justify my darkness. I was in a comfortable state of despair. No one could hurt me now. I was afraid to cry because I thought I wouldn't stop.
I remember hearing a knock on my door one Sunday afternoon. My usual reaction would be to pretend to not be home, or to kindly decline what they had to offer. But this time was different. I knew who it was and felt like I needed to hear their voice this time. I was in a vulnerable state so I decided to answer the door. I opened the door to a smiling face from a Jehovah's witness. She asked if she could read something to me and I agreed. Even though I didn't know what I was yearning for I knew I was empty. A void consumed my life like the darkness of night. Whatever she had to offer I was willing to receive at that particular moment. I allowed myself to feel again for only but a moment. God was calling me but I was afraid of being hurt again. My bitterness and hurt towards God and my father allowed me to remain cold. Living a life with a hardened heart was a choice I thought I had to make. How long could I go on living this way?
Monday, May 27, 2013
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
The September 11th Of My Life
Hearing my father cry on the phone broke my heart. I spent the next few months holding on to hope that his ailing body would recover. I tried to reserve a spot in my heart where we could get beyond what we had gone through. Forgiveness would be hard but was it worth the shot? I guess I will never know.
I eventually received a phone call that my father was in critical condition in ICU up in San Francisco. I quickly booked a flight to go up and see him. Time seemed to stop as I walked in the hospital. I knew things were grave as my aunts came to embrace me. Doctors immediately began asking me of all people what I wanted to do. I hadn't even had time to collect my thoughts and I was suppose to decide whether or not to pull the plug. That was the exact moment I knew I would never talk to my father ever again. Pain so familiar as a kid set in. I began to cry uncontrollably. Tears streamed down my face. I was a boy left without his father without any explanations whatsoever. In knowing I would never be able to ask the millions of questions I had for my father, was so hard.
I spent the anniversary of 9-11 at the hospital in and out of crying induced comas. Even though my father was on life support we all knew it was the end. Family slowly began showing up to say their goodbyes. My father's pastor and some brothers from the church showed up at 2:00am on September 12th to watch his soul depart. They prayed over him and there he went. Why hadn't he died before when we were all there? I didn't realize then that God had a plan for my father all along. His departure couldn't have been anymore perfect. As my father ascended into Heaven, I was safely away in my hotel room. As I figured out what the next chapter of my life would bring now that my father had died, I felt confused. How could I write the next chapter of my life when so many unanswered questions remained?
I wouldn't see my sister Desiree, who was only 11 at the time of the funeral, until her wedding 8 years later. A trip that would change my life and eventually take me on a journey I never thought I would take.
I eventually received a phone call that my father was in critical condition in ICU up in San Francisco. I quickly booked a flight to go up and see him. Time seemed to stop as I walked in the hospital. I knew things were grave as my aunts came to embrace me. Doctors immediately began asking me of all people what I wanted to do. I hadn't even had time to collect my thoughts and I was suppose to decide whether or not to pull the plug. That was the exact moment I knew I would never talk to my father ever again. Pain so familiar as a kid set in. I began to cry uncontrollably. Tears streamed down my face. I was a boy left without his father without any explanations whatsoever. In knowing I would never be able to ask the millions of questions I had for my father, was so hard.
I spent the anniversary of 9-11 at the hospital in and out of crying induced comas. Even though my father was on life support we all knew it was the end. Family slowly began showing up to say their goodbyes. My father's pastor and some brothers from the church showed up at 2:00am on September 12th to watch his soul depart. They prayed over him and there he went. Why hadn't he died before when we were all there? I didn't realize then that God had a plan for my father all along. His departure couldn't have been anymore perfect. As my father ascended into Heaven, I was safely away in my hotel room. As I figured out what the next chapter of my life would bring now that my father had died, I felt confused. How could I write the next chapter of my life when so many unanswered questions remained?
I wouldn't see my sister Desiree, who was only 11 at the time of the funeral, until her wedding 8 years later. A trip that would change my life and eventually take me on a journey I never thought I would take.
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
Not Your Typical Phone Call
If you've ever thought, "Can things get any worse?", well they can. As I recovered from a torturous evening, I never thought it could have gotten worse, but it did. I received a phone call from my Aunt Nicki, who was my father's sister. She told me that my father was very sick and in the hospital and wanted to talk to me. I was floored! Confusion and anguish set in. How could he be getting married if he was sick? What did he want to talk to me about? As these thoughts scattered throughout my head I knew deep down in my heart I needed to call him, but I didn't want to. I was still angry from the night before and wasn't quite sure what I would even say. Somehow I found the courage to pick up the phone and call my father.
As I looked at the number my aunt had given me, sweat poured through my hands. I was afraid. I didn't know actually what I was about to face. I kind of knew that this might be the last time I got to talk to my father. Turns out it was. I still remember what he said. These tones of pain and regret had so resonated my heart as a kid. My father cried like a newborn child continuously as he had so many times before. But this time was different. As my father cried out, "I'm sorry", there was a finality to his voice, as if this would be the end. Turns out that my father was terminally ill. His organs and the rest of his body were failing him fast. He told me that he was sorry and to watch after my sister Desiree, and that was all I got. I got no explanations for what he had done my entire life. I still held onto hope of having a chance to speak to him one more time. Time was running out fast though.
As I looked at the number my aunt had given me, sweat poured through my hands. I was afraid. I didn't know actually what I was about to face. I kind of knew that this might be the last time I got to talk to my father. Turns out it was. I still remember what he said. These tones of pain and regret had so resonated my heart as a kid. My father cried like a newborn child continuously as he had so many times before. But this time was different. As my father cried out, "I'm sorry", there was a finality to his voice, as if this would be the end. Turns out that my father was terminally ill. His organs and the rest of his body were failing him fast. He told me that he was sorry and to watch after my sister Desiree, and that was all I got. I got no explanations for what he had done my entire life. I still held onto hope of having a chance to speak to him one more time. Time was running out fast though.
Saturday, May 11, 2013
A Marriage Invitation
The events that took place from the Summer of 2002 up to the 1 year anniversary of September 11th were as confusing, devastating, and crippling as any years of my life. This hadn't been the first time I had disowned my father. A long string of disappointments led me to almost anticipate them, as a boxer reacts to his opponent. But this time was different. The pain and heartache my father caused by walking away from our relationship was the final straw. In my heart and in my mind my father ceased to exist, until that one Friday afternoon.
Summer was here and that always brought me excitement. I hadn't really thought about my father or the events that transpired until I opened a letter addressed to me. It was a wedding invitation from my father announcing that he was going to get married. At this point saying I was mad is an understatement. I was crushed, confused, and furious balled into one. I was angry at my father for not calling me himself. Had he met someone during the time we hadn't talked? Or did he choose not to mention her while we spent those few days together? Why hadn't he called me during those months? All of these painful thoughts and emotions were running through my head. I was overwhelmed as you can imagine. I couldn't absorb any more wounds.
My way out, my escape was to ignore the invitation. Surely I wasn't going to show up to my father's wedding. The crazy thing is I never had the opportunity to even decide. The following day a simple phone call would force me to make a tougher decision then I ever realized. Forgiveness.
Summer was here and that always brought me excitement. I hadn't really thought about my father or the events that transpired until I opened a letter addressed to me. It was a wedding invitation from my father announcing that he was going to get married. At this point saying I was mad is an understatement. I was crushed, confused, and furious balled into one. I was angry at my father for not calling me himself. Had he met someone during the time we hadn't talked? Or did he choose not to mention her while we spent those few days together? Why hadn't he called me during those months? All of these painful thoughts and emotions were running through my head. I was overwhelmed as you can imagine. I couldn't absorb any more wounds.
My way out, my escape was to ignore the invitation. Surely I wasn't going to show up to my father's wedding. The crazy thing is I never had the opportunity to even decide. The following day a simple phone call would force me to make a tougher decision then I ever realized. Forgiveness.
Thursday, May 9, 2013
Broken Promises Lead To A Broken Heart
Shortly after graduation I received a graduation card from my father with $100 inside. I was very surprised and unsure of how to respond. See I hadn't really spoke to him since I went to go visit him years back. For some reason FORGIVENESS was weighing on my heart. I longed to be with my father, to establish what was lost all those years.
I decided to let the anger, resentment, and hurt go and allow him back into my life. Even though it was a tough decision I hoped that reuniting with my father would fill the void that was missing in my heart.
I invited him over for the weekend and we spent what would be our last days together. We hung out, watched sports, ate junk food, and read the sports page. I didn't realize until that moment that we were so much alike. I even took my father to see a Lakers game which we both enjoyed. It was almost too good to be true. He left on good terms and I was very excited to start this new beginning, this new chapter in my life that I so longed for. This was around November 2011.
As time passed Christmas came around and I didn't hear from my father. January, February, March. Surely my father will call me on my birthday I thought. And no phone call. After letting my father back into my life he did what he always did, disappoint. That broke my heart into a million pieces. This time was going to be the last time he had the opportunity to hurt me. I decided to shut him out of my life, to completely erase him from my memory was the plan. And that's what I did until I got a letter and phone call that would change my world forever.
I decided to let the anger, resentment, and hurt go and allow him back into my life. Even though it was a tough decision I hoped that reuniting with my father would fill the void that was missing in my heart.
I invited him over for the weekend and we spent what would be our last days together. We hung out, watched sports, ate junk food, and read the sports page. I didn't realize until that moment that we were so much alike. I even took my father to see a Lakers game which we both enjoyed. It was almost too good to be true. He left on good terms and I was very excited to start this new beginning, this new chapter in my life that I so longed for. This was around November 2011.
As time passed Christmas came around and I didn't hear from my father. January, February, March. Surely my father will call me on my birthday I thought. And no phone call. After letting my father back into my life he did what he always did, disappoint. That broke my heart into a million pieces. This time was going to be the last time he had the opportunity to hurt me. I decided to shut him out of my life, to completely erase him from my memory was the plan. And that's what I did until I got a letter and phone call that would change my world forever.
2001: A Conflicted Year
2001 was and is probably the most conflicted year of my life. Even though I anticipated the excitement and joy of graduating from UC Berkeley, my grandmother's health was failing. And so began a roller coaster ride over the next several months. My grandmother Graciela passed away in May 2001 which was heartbreaking to say the least. We had grown up living with her as kids so when she passed our family needed to be put back together again.
My sister had been pregnant during the time our grandmother was sick. It's funny because she was scared to tell her she was going to have a baby. Even though she told her, we still don't know for sure if she really knew. My nephew Valentino was born a month after my grandmother died. June 2001.
It was hard to celebrate my graduation in knowing my grandmother wasn't there to share in those memories. September 11th, 2001 soon followed which only added to this conflicted year. I never would have thought that this day would hold such a burden on my heart as it has. My father would be fighting for his life on this day the following year.
My sister had been pregnant during the time our grandmother was sick. It's funny because she was scared to tell her she was going to have a baby. Even though she told her, we still don't know for sure if she really knew. My nephew Valentino was born a month after my grandmother died. June 2001.
It was hard to celebrate my graduation in knowing my grandmother wasn't there to share in those memories. September 11th, 2001 soon followed which only added to this conflicted year. I never would have thought that this day would hold such a burden on my heart as it has. My father would be fighting for his life on this day the following year.
Father, Where Are You?
After trying to balance partying and keeping up with college, I found myself empty. The hallucination that I saw in the clouds left a residue of longing to find my father again. See my father was in and out of my life ever since I was a kid. My mother had left him after she realized he had a steady heroin habit. That kept him away for weeks at a time and irritable when he was home. I remember playing outside as a kid and getting phone calls from him that would totally ruin my day. Hearing him cry would cause resent to boil inside me. Out of sight out of mind was a healthy way to look at things back then.
Every young man who has lived a life without his father longs for that missing bond. Life doesn't seem complete, something always seems to be missing. Well I wasn't an exception. Since my life seemed to be spiraling out of control, I thought reuniting with my father was what I needed. My estranged relationship with my father left a huge hole in my heart, a void that needed to be filled.
Around the time I was about 12 or 13 years old my father got remarried and became a Christian. He was living what I thought was the "Christian Life", running a women's home for his church. Even though I thought he was a hypocrite for trying to preach the bible to me, but hadn't been there as a father, I still longed for that relationship.
So I decided to visit him and his family in Escondido where they lived. It was weird seeing my father with his new family. Something about him living this life made me feel cheated and left out. My cute lil sister Desiree, who was probably 5 at the time, even taught me how to pray. "Look. Put your hand in front of you like this. That's how easy it is", she said. My father taking me to bible study class was my boiling point. Even though my father was trying to plant a seed, my bitter roots grew deep. Not only did I leave that trip feeling empty inside, I felt that my father, who had not been there for me my whole life, was trying to judge me.
What I didn't realize then that I do now was that my Heavenly Father was calling me and I ignored His call. For now...
Every young man who has lived a life without his father longs for that missing bond. Life doesn't seem complete, something always seems to be missing. Well I wasn't an exception. Since my life seemed to be spiraling out of control, I thought reuniting with my father was what I needed. My estranged relationship with my father left a huge hole in my heart, a void that needed to be filled.
Around the time I was about 12 or 13 years old my father got remarried and became a Christian. He was living what I thought was the "Christian Life", running a women's home for his church. Even though I thought he was a hypocrite for trying to preach the bible to me, but hadn't been there as a father, I still longed for that relationship.
So I decided to visit him and his family in Escondido where they lived. It was weird seeing my father with his new family. Something about him living this life made me feel cheated and left out. My cute lil sister Desiree, who was probably 5 at the time, even taught me how to pray. "Look. Put your hand in front of you like this. That's how easy it is", she said. My father taking me to bible study class was my boiling point. Even though my father was trying to plant a seed, my bitter roots grew deep. Not only did I leave that trip feeling empty inside, I felt that my father, who had not been there for me my whole life, was trying to judge me.
What I didn't realize then that I do now was that my Heavenly Father was calling me and I ignored His call. For now...
Saturday, April 20, 2013
Raves, Music, & Drugs
Going to RAVES was a common thing back then. My circle of friends weren't the type to only go to enjoy the TECHNO MUSIC. At these rave parties you would find an abundance of drugs of all kinds. ACID, SHROOMS, ECSTASY, WEED could be bought or shared depending on who you knew.
On this particular night we went to a huge warehouse in OAKLAND where we had all planned to take our drug of choice. For Mashaad and Sara it was ECSTASY and for me it was SHROOMS. As we roamed around checking out what was going on inside I ran into someone I knew. This guy asked my if I wanted to find some ACID. I had forgotten I already ate SHROOMS before I went in. I was stupid enough to test my limits by doing ACID as well. I felt as if I was going to lose control, go out of my mind literally. I even saw the DEVIL in my friend as she turned beet red. My friends who were both high on Ecstasy had to find a way to drive me home. I spent the rest of the night in my bed searching for any thoughts of stability. I was losing control of myself fast. I knew that if I was going to find myself and some how finish college, the drug use was going to have to stop.
On this particular night we went to a huge warehouse in OAKLAND where we had all planned to take our drug of choice. For Mashaad and Sara it was ECSTASY and for me it was SHROOMS. As we roamed around checking out what was going on inside I ran into someone I knew. This guy asked my if I wanted to find some ACID. I had forgotten I already ate SHROOMS before I went in. I was stupid enough to test my limits by doing ACID as well. I felt as if I was going to lose control, go out of my mind literally. I even saw the DEVIL in my friend as she turned beet red. My friends who were both high on Ecstasy had to find a way to drive me home. I spent the rest of the night in my bed searching for any thoughts of stability. I was losing control of myself fast. I knew that if I was going to find myself and some how finish college, the drug use was going to have to stop.
Hallucinations In The Clouds
I arrived at UC Berkeley in the Summer of '96 to attend a summer bridge program before my freshman year started. Most of the students who were living on campus were athletes and those who wanted to experience what college was like before it actually began. Living in the dorms without any supervision and a desire to do whatever wasn't a good combination.
Before I ever actually entered a classroom I found myself roaming the streets of Telegraph looking for drugs. For some reason my friend Sara and I had the obsession of dropping ACID on campus. If you know anything about Berserk-Ley you already know that it didn't take us that long to find what we were looking for. Exploring our new campus became an adventure as we hiked up and down amazed at the trails we saw.
I think the reason I will never forget that night is because what I saw in the clouds. As I was high on ACID gazing into the sky I saw something that made my heart break completely. Some might think it's crazy to think that God can speak to someone while they are HIGH as a kite. But that's what happened. I had a vision of my father holding me as a baby. At the time I began crying uncontrollably because of the estranged relationship I had with my father. What I didn't know then that I know now was that my HEAVENLY FATHER was calling me. HE wanted me to know that HE had me in HIS arms and wasn't going to let go.
Before I ever actually entered a classroom I found myself roaming the streets of Telegraph looking for drugs. For some reason my friend Sara and I had the obsession of dropping ACID on campus. If you know anything about Berserk-Ley you already know that it didn't take us that long to find what we were looking for. Exploring our new campus became an adventure as we hiked up and down amazed at the trails we saw.
I think the reason I will never forget that night is because what I saw in the clouds. As I was high on ACID gazing into the sky I saw something that made my heart break completely. Some might think it's crazy to think that God can speak to someone while they are HIGH as a kite. But that's what happened. I had a vision of my father holding me as a baby. At the time I began crying uncontrollably because of the estranged relationship I had with my father. What I didn't know then that I know now was that my HEAVENLY FATHER was calling me. HE wanted me to know that HE had me in HIS arms and wasn't going to let go.
Berserk-Ley
Ever since I was in 6th grade I dreamed about going to Berkeley. After taking a road trip up there I knew that I wanted to go there. I remember speaking at a senior high school band banquet. Instead of thanking those who had supported me, I expressed my excitement to go to college and party. Let's just say that foreshadowed what was to come.
They call Berkeley "Berserk-Ley" for a reason. Amongst those who have dreams of graduating from Berkeley with that prestigious degree, is a dark underworld of drugs, hallucinations, and disillusionment. These short shorties give you a glimpse into my crazy world.
They call Berkeley "Berserk-Ley" for a reason. Amongst those who have dreams of graduating from Berkeley with that prestigious degree, is a dark underworld of drugs, hallucinations, and disillusionment. These short shorties give you a glimpse into my crazy world.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Confusion... Who to ask? Who to bother?
I quickly found out in high school that I was clueless in terms of dealing with girls. I was always really shy and never knew how to approach them. I can see much more evident now that I needed a Father's guidance, especially during those confusing years. Who should I have asked? Not sure. Didn't want to bother anyone or maybe I didn't feel comfortable to ask. Daddy where are you now? Nowhere to be found...I thought. As my celestial Father was waiting for me to start listening to Him. But, I didn't.
The game became just that, a game. Should I make this a numbers game, go out with as many girls as possible? Should I try to find love in all the wrong places? Who to ask? Who to bother? I guess when you are living a life without direction you take your chances and hope for the best. Lets just say I found myself in several messes leading up to the end of my senior year. The theme of this story would take a turn for the worse when I entered College. Another confused, desperate chapter in my life.
Thank you Lord for allowing me to value Your creation as a precious gift.
The game became just that, a game. Should I make this a numbers game, go out with as many girls as possible? Should I try to find love in all the wrong places? Who to ask? Who to bother? I guess when you are living a life without direction you take your chances and hope for the best. Lets just say I found myself in several messes leading up to the end of my senior year. The theme of this story would take a turn for the worse when I entered College. Another confused, desperate chapter in my life.
Thank you Lord for allowing me to value Your creation as a precious gift.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Conflicted: High School Years
I have titled this part of my life conflicted b/c that was the state I was in while in high school. On the one hand I was a student destined to attend college, gifted in music and in sports, while on the other hand I held a lot of secrets. The next few short stories will give you an idea of how God's mercy allowed me to excel in school while partaking in all the sinful pleasures of the world. Here's the 1st one:
Band Geek?
Even though I got made fun of for being part of the band, I still really enjoyed it. The membership allowed me to gain a group of friends with common interests, while building a sense of responsibility as well. We would travel around Cali competing in different competitions and performing for many audiences.
What I soon realized was that the friends I hung out with had more in common with me than just playing an instrument. They liked to get loaded, high, whatever you want to call it. We used to leave school and go to a friend's house near by. Pounding beers, smoking weed, and being just straight up foolish was our pleasure.
The crazy thing about it was that we were all stupid enough to go back to school after partying all afternoon. I remember being stoned in Spanish class laughing at everything I heard. I even played my clarinet high on several occasions. Talk about playing out of tune. It's amazing that we never got caught or even talked to.
It is evident now that GOD allowed me to live this life to see its pitfalls. GOD'S mercy is awesome. I deserved to be expelled or even suspended. Sorry for being a stupid kid LORD. This isn't the only time Im gnna say sorry. Thanks for listening. Amen.
Band Geek?
Even though I got made fun of for being part of the band, I still really enjoyed it. The membership allowed me to gain a group of friends with common interests, while building a sense of responsibility as well. We would travel around Cali competing in different competitions and performing for many audiences.
What I soon realized was that the friends I hung out with had more in common with me than just playing an instrument. They liked to get loaded, high, whatever you want to call it. We used to leave school and go to a friend's house near by. Pounding beers, smoking weed, and being just straight up foolish was our pleasure.
The crazy thing about it was that we were all stupid enough to go back to school after partying all afternoon. I remember being stoned in Spanish class laughing at everything I heard. I even played my clarinet high on several occasions. Talk about playing out of tune. It's amazing that we never got caught or even talked to.
It is evident now that GOD allowed me to live this life to see its pitfalls. GOD'S mercy is awesome. I deserved to be expelled or even suspended. Sorry for being a stupid kid LORD. This isn't the only time Im gnna say sorry. Thanks for listening. Amen.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
RIP Tre Green
When I was in 5th grade my mom got remarried and we were forced to move up to the top of Altadena. The neighborhood was a typical working class one, but hidden behind the uncut grass was a mystery to me. A lot of the kids we hung out with were what I would call "STREET SMART". Some would just say GHETTO but whatever, you know what I'm saying. I could tell you stories of playing ball in the street, swimming down the street at Mr. So & So's house, but as I told you before, GOD wants me to be as TRANSPARENT as possible.
Tre was a kid who lived down the street from me. He was a great athlete and I enjoyed hanging out with him around the neighborhood and at his house. I recall spending the night at his house one night and finding out what boxers were. That was funny. I guess Tighty Whities were my thing. That wouldn't be the only time Tre would introduce something to me for the first time.
Weed, Mary Jane, or whatever you want to call it always had a familiar scent to me. It's aroma was quite pleasing to me as a kid. I guess it kinda still does. My uncle would always enjoy the cloud of smoke in my Nana's garage. It seemed as normal to me as Papa listening to the Giants game on his AM radio. I had smoked cigarettes several times by the time I had entered 8th grade, as I already shared. So when my homie Tre offered me a hit of a joint in the back of his neighbor's house, I didn't really trip. We smoked it, laughed, and shared stories as the ashes slowly fell to the ground.
I probably was 14 when I felt that high for the first time. I didn't know that this would shape my life to come. I also didn't know Tre, my homie from the neighborhood, who shared childhood memories with me would get shot in his front yard. He was only in his early 20s. RIP Tre Green.
Tre was a kid who lived down the street from me. He was a great athlete and I enjoyed hanging out with him around the neighborhood and at his house. I recall spending the night at his house one night and finding out what boxers were. That was funny. I guess Tighty Whities were my thing. That wouldn't be the only time Tre would introduce something to me for the first time.
Weed, Mary Jane, or whatever you want to call it always had a familiar scent to me. It's aroma was quite pleasing to me as a kid. I guess it kinda still does. My uncle would always enjoy the cloud of smoke in my Nana's garage. It seemed as normal to me as Papa listening to the Giants game on his AM radio. I had smoked cigarettes several times by the time I had entered 8th grade, as I already shared. So when my homie Tre offered me a hit of a joint in the back of his neighbor's house, I didn't really trip. We smoked it, laughed, and shared stories as the ashes slowly fell to the ground.
I probably was 14 when I felt that high for the first time. I didn't know that this would shape my life to come. I also didn't know Tre, my homie from the neighborhood, who shared childhood memories with me would get shot in his front yard. He was only in his early 20s. RIP Tre Green.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Joe Camel
Back in the day I was fascinated with Joe Camel. He was cool and slick with his shades and blazing cigarette in his mouth. See my dad used to smoke Camel cigarettes so it only seemed natural for me to want to smoke as well. For some reason the markets had the cigarettes for sale by the checkout stand. You could literally grab them and put them on the counter to buy. The smokes were located where the candy is for sale now. Well as a young kid I remember leaning towards the cigarettes and putting several packs in my pocket. I think my stepdad was in line with me which is just crazy.
I soon realized that there were vending machines around town that had cigarettes for sale. Much easier than stealing them. These events happened around the time I was about to start the 6th grade. Crazy to think. But that was me once again. A young kid fascinated with sin. A world I longed to be a part of.
I soon realized that there were vending machines around town that had cigarettes for sale. Much easier than stealing them. These events happened around the time I was about to start the 6th grade. Crazy to think. But that was me once again. A young kid fascinated with sin. A world I longed to be a part of.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Lyndsey's Liquor, Camel Cigarettes & Playboy Mags...
As a kid I was always fascinated with what I thought was "ADULT STUFF". My sinful nature was very prevalent ever since I was in elementary school. I daydreamed about being able to go to the store and buy a pack of smokes. Kinda crazy huh? Well that was me. The following short stories came from experiences I had as a curious kid. Crazy stuff now that I think back on it. Here we go!
LYNDSEY'S LIQUOR
There was a friend of mine while I was in elementary school that would show me dirty mags out of his backpack. He told me that he would go to Lyndsey's Liquor, put the money on the counter, and then grab a Playboy mag and run out. See back-in-the-day dirty mags and cigarettes were at eye level for us small kids. Maybe that is part of the reason I was always fascinated with them. Lets just say that he was able to purchase several for me. Back then it wasn't really a big deal. Even though I knew I wasn't suppose to look at those mags I did it anyway. Under my mattress they went and soon began a childhood of hidden pleasures and desires. I did tell you that I wanted to be transparent. Now I just have to press "publish post". Breathe. Ok. Thanks for reading.
LYNDSEY'S LIQUOR
There was a friend of mine while I was in elementary school that would show me dirty mags out of his backpack. He told me that he would go to Lyndsey's Liquor, put the money on the counter, and then grab a Playboy mag and run out. See back-in-the-day dirty mags and cigarettes were at eye level for us small kids. Maybe that is part of the reason I was always fascinated with them. Lets just say that he was able to purchase several for me. Back then it wasn't really a big deal. Even though I knew I wasn't suppose to look at those mags I did it anyway. Under my mattress they went and soon began a childhood of hidden pleasures and desires. I did tell you that I wanted to be transparent. Now I just have to press "publish post". Breathe. Ok. Thanks for reading.
Friday, May 27, 2011
Holding On...
I have always been really attached to my mother. Looking back on it now, I think I was fearful of a life without her. She was my comfort blanket, one that made me feel protected and secure. My mom always provided me with so much love, support, and comfort. I remember being literally attached to my mom's hip where ever she went. Gemco mommy Gemco. (Inside Visalia joke ha ha)
As I was in my mom's arms walking into the entrance of either Preschool or Kindergarten (I don't remember) I must have thought she wasn't going to leave. As it became visible that I was going to be SEPARATED from her I began to HOLD ON to her hair! I was desperate not to be left alone. Lets just say that this was a sign of more to come.
As I was in my mom's arms walking into the entrance of either Preschool or Kindergarten (I don't remember) I must have thought she wasn't going to leave. As it became visible that I was going to be SEPARATED from her I began to HOLD ON to her hair! I was desperate not to be left alone. Lets just say that this was a sign of more to come.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Stage Is Set: Let the battle begin...
Growing up I never realized that the only memory that I had of my MOM and DAD together was when she left him. I will never forget. I must have been 3 or so and there was a battle for my LIFE. I was in the middle of a tug of WAR between my MOM and DAD. My mom hit a boiling point and realized that my DAD wasn't the person she thought he was when she married him. See my dad was a heroin addict with a likable personality. I guess when he wasn't strung out. He used to come home after being gone for days at a time on a drug binge. My brother has memories that aren't worth getting into. Let me just say that he wasn't father-of-the-year. I LOVE my MOM so much for making that decision to leave that situation. The battle that I thought had been WON was just beginning. This is the STORY of my LIFE my STRUGGLES my PAIN... and hopefully you follow ME to REDEMPTION.
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